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I am so sorry for your loss. May you gain hope by praying to God constantly. Please accept my condolences.

Posted by: Pat Aug 12, 2017

George Hamilton's Journey

His caregivers described him as a true southern gentleman. I think that's true. George Hamilton, my Dad, was every bit of that. Proper, proud, courteous, disciplined, gracious, generous, steadfast. But he was more- fun loving, funny, a rabid Georgia Bulldogs fan. A trickster. (He once put huge, store bought strawberries in my brother-in-law's garden patch where he was trying to grow them. I will never forget the look on Dennis Lightsey's face when he saw them and thought

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George Hamilton's Journey

His caregivers described him as a true southern gentleman. I think that's true. George Hamilton, my Dad, was every bit of that. Proper, proud, courteous, disciplined, gracious, generous, steadfast. But he was more- fun loving, funny, a rabid Georgia Bulldogs fan. A trickster. (He once put huge, store bought strawberries in my brother-in-law's garden patch where he was trying to grow them. I will never forget the look on Dennis Lightsey's face when he saw them and thought they were his own home grown strawberries). Belly laughs from all.

Daddy was a man's man- athletic, adventurous, and absolutely obsessed with baseball, football, golf. He was a ladies' man, too, but not in the usual sense. He was beautiful to look at with his classic face and blazing blue eyes- and the ladies loved him. But he loved only my mom, Shirley. His Shirley. He'd loved her fiercely since he'd met her at age 15, and until he lost her to cancer at age 61. Real love. Through thick and thin kind of love. Sitting so close together every night on the sofa watching the Braves that you couldn't put a piece of paper between them kind of love. Amazing.

And he was brilliant. Phi Kappa Phi Honor Society. Summa Cum Laude UGA valedictorian candidate. All of it came so easy to him. So natural. And humble- I didn't even know these things until I started reading all the certificates on his wall.

He was also a pillar of strength. He really was. For his "people"- his family, his patients, his friends. If anyone needed anything, he was there. If anyone said, I need -------, he'd do it. Really. Random people still tell us stories of how he touched and changed their lives. For customers who couldn't pay for their medications, he gave it to them anyway. The old ladies who lived across the street from his store downtown had a long walk to find a grocery store, so he put milk and bread in his apothecary to help them. We didn't like it- it was too much bother and it looked cheesy. His reply- They need it, so I'm going to carry it.

And then there was the sweet, African American, 13 year old delivery boy, Michael, without a father, who Daddy chose to become a surrogate father to. Michael calls my dad Daddy to this day and called him nearly every week for the last 40 years. Michael has a wife now and three daughters of his own and is a good father. An upright godly man.

Also, there was the African American man, Henry, who worked for a vending company who delivered to Daddy every week for years. He was a true hater of white people- no exceptions. My dad was determined to show him love. To change his mind. And he did. After literally years of being nice to him, always courteous, always respectful, always trying to show him that he didn't see race. One day Henry looked into Daddy's eyes, studied him, and smiled. After that day, all smiles and talk of fishing and baseball. Like old trusted friends. Truly amazing.

To his son-in-laws he was surrogate father, friend and fishing buddy, Papa.Georgie. Pops. I believe that Daddy's favorite time of all was watching GA football with these special godly men that he loved as his own sons.

He took special care of his mother all of her life. He loved and cared for his brothers and sisters. His shoulders carried them all as they lost their spouses and relied on him to fill the gaps.

To his nieces and nephews he represented home and family and love. They could always count on him- for loving up on them, a hug, a laugh, a word of advice, a strong shoulder to cry on. He became a surrogate parent as they lost their own. He did it all gladly- he loved them deeply. He was the last of his generation and he bore that privilege and responsibility well.

And most important to me, he was an amazing father. Our beloved Daddy. He loved his three daughters unconditionally and he taught us by example. He exhibited his integrity and moral fiber, his character, his devotion to our mother, his generosity to those in need, his blindness to the color of someone's skin. He was our protector, our provider, our safety and our standard for what a man was supposed to be.

But his greatest joy and what he was proudest of was his grandchildren. They probably don't even know this. He wasn't demonstrative and he lived his life quietly. But he was always observing them and cheering them on. He was proud of their accomplishments, but what made his heart sing was that they were, in his words, all such good, nice people. (My Daddy valued kindness above all else- if you weren't nice you were just about useless in his book.) As to the great grandchildren, he truly treasured the moments spent with them, just being the Papa to this bunch of sweet, wonderful little people.

Actually, as I write this, I realize that he reminds me of someone. George Hamilton was a real life George Bailey. (Remember It's a Wonderful Life?) He was the man everyone looked to for everything- helping everyone and expecting nothing in return. Quietly contributing to the lives of all the people he cared for. Shouldering the burden from other's mistakes. Always modest, always shunning the spotlight. A flawed, sinful man but a truly extraordinary man. A treasure, who had no idea how much he meant to so many people.

So how is it that this incredible, blessed, gifted George Hamilton, was an atheist? Someone so blessed by God with literally everything a man could want. Loving parents, happy childhood, loving, godly, beautiful wife, real friends, athletic prowess, a brilliant mind, physical beauty, and a whole stable full of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren who loved him. Living a long, healthy life. With no monetary worries. Respected, honored and loved by the community of people he served. A literally perfect professional record- never a prescription incorrectly dispensed. No enemies. Two hole-in-ones and a double eagle. Played the Augusta National and Pebble Beach. Had tickets to The Masters for 60 years. Had his fill of crab and red wine.What else could a man want? Not many on this earth are blessed with all of this. But George Hamilton was. Our Lord gave him all of this. Almost every human desire fulfilled.

But Daddy was having nothing of the notion of God. So thoroughly a man of only science, he couldn't fathom a Creator. He spent many, many years in this state of mind - denying and negating. And then, three years ago, he began going to church with each of his daughters. He heard different sermons and saw differing modes of worship but he heard one message.

Daddy's journey toward Christ wasn't splashy. This was no revival tent revelation shouted and exhibited for all to see. No, this is years of our Lord quietly wearing away the protective armor and exposing the barnacles of resistance, then slowly polishing them off, layer by layer. But in the puzzle that was my Dad's full life, his journey, there were still some missing pieces. Critical pieces. And it was his mountain to climb.

In the last year of Dad's life, God became to him not a concept, but an acknowledged being. To a lifelong atheist, our Lord became real - acknowledged in hymns of praise of which he sung every word out loud, and daily prayers said. He told me that he prayed for all his children and their children every day.

And in the final week of his life, my sweet, quiet Daddy begged for heaven over and over. To be released from suffering and to be reunited with our mother in heaven. I believe that our Lord finishes the work that He starts, because He tells us that He does. And I believe that He was changing George Hamilton.

My mind and heart cried out "Lord, is it well with his soul? And I was given peace with an image in my mind. I imagine our loving, compassionate, beautiful, forgiving, awesome Savior...with a smile on his face reaching out his arms toward my Dad, who finally reached back.

My heart is full. Our God is great. Our rock, our fortress, our strength. And He has blessed every one of us who had the privilege of being one of George Hamilton's beloved "people".

Tricia Hamilton Stacy

Posted by: Tricia Stacy - Savannah, GA Aug 11, 2017

Dear dear George. "Blue eyes" to me every time I saw him here at River's Edge. A true gentleman, fine man, he is greatly missed by his neighbors here. I knew a Diane Lightsey from somewhere .. one of George's family members. Also spoke with one of his daughters shortly after he left here. My sadness reaches out to all of you - I know he is resting in peace.Mickey Wallace - River's Edge Retirement

Posted by: A friend Aug 07, 2017

Jane, Tricia, Diane,

So very sorry to read today of your loss. George was such an important part of my early years in Savannah. Your father's guidance provided me with an outward vision for improving my life. Working at the Drug Store remains my all time favorite job.Peace to you girls, Remember the good days. Larry Shinall, Charleston.

Posted by: A friend Aug 07, 2017

I am very sorry for your loss.

Posted by: A friend Aug 07, 2017

Good by my old friend. I have many fond memories of George. Graduating from high school and university together--studying together--playing many fierce games of ping pong--working together at Hamilton's pharmacy--experiencing the birth of our daughters (Jane and Anita)on the same night--speaking of the Lord together over the phone and many more.I'm sure it won't be all that long before I join you around the Throne.My most sincere condolences to all of the familyJack Denmark

Posted by: A friend Aug 06, 2017

Jane, my phone number is 864-296-3340. I would appreciate very much your giving me a call when you have time. Thank you

Jack Denmark

Posted by: A friend Aug 06, 2017

Good bye my dear old friend. I have so many fond memories that I can't even think of them all--graduating high school together--studying together at university--playing many fierce games of ping pong--working together at Hamilton's Pharmacy--experiencing the birth of our daughters (Jane and Anita) on the same night--enjoying deviled crab at your home--talking about the Lord together over the phone and on and on I could go. I'm sure I won't be too far behind you so I hope to see you before very long.

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